


500-Word Angst Prompt Fills

by plishooksky (reiirae)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mafia AU, Yuri and Viktor are brothers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-03 02:29:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11522640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reiirae/pseuds/plishooksky
Summary: angst, but in 500 words. multi-ship.





	1. “I shouldn’t have left you.” ~ Victuuri

“I shouldn’t have left you.”

Viktor had been stood there ten minutes already, uncharacteristically nervous to break the silence. The younger skater sat with his back to him, head in his hands, shoulders moving ever so slightly with his ragged breathing. Neither spoke - Viktor gained no response, and Yuuri never acknowledged the other’s presence. He’d never been good at reading people’s emotions, but he could tell Yuuri was hurting. He didn’t blame him - things had been looking up after his major loss the previous year, but the second Viktor had left him, things had gone bad, and Yuuri ended up in last place. Again. The skater took it hard; Viktor had seen the pure devastation on his face when he spotted him earlier in the day, shortly after he arrived at the hotel the majority of the other competitors had chosen to stay at. 

Yuuri hadn’t spoken to him after his defeat. Viktor didn’t blame him - it was probably his fault after all - and he kept his distance at first. Instead, he searched for Chris, knowing the Swiss skater would probably be up to do something; anything to get him away from the quietness of the upscale hotel. Avoiding Yuuri had been easier than he’d first thought, but then again the younger skater probably wasn’t actively seeking him out anyway.

“Yuuri, please, it...it was a mistake. I should never have left.” 

“Yeah, well, you,” Yuuri began, his voice shaking. He didn’t look up. “You needed to go. It wasn’t your fault.” 

The accusation was there, between the lines; Yuuri was just too nice to voice it.

“I know you’re angry at me, and I understand, but-”

“It doesn’t matter now, Viktor. I’m retiring. I said I would, and I meant it. Why continue? This is it. This is all I have now. Two complete failures at the Grand Prix Finals. I’m an embarrassment to Japan and to skating.” the younger man ranted, never looking over at his companion. Viktor felt his heart break at the raw sadness in his voice; never had Viktor heard Yuuri sound so desperately _broken_ before. 

“Yuuri, no, you don’t have to-”

“Yes, I do. It’s not your choice to make anyway. It’s mine. Thanks for your time, Viktor. I’m sorry I wasted it. I should never have accepted anyway.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Everyone knew it was a bad idea from the start. Most of the skating world hate me for dragging you away, and now it’s all for nothing. I’m an international embarrassment, and I’m tarnishing your good name. It’s better if we...we end this.”

Viktor didn’t answer him for a few moments. The quiet vehemence behind Yuuri’s words had stunned him into an unusual silence, and he stalled to think of the right words.

“Nobody thin-”

“Don’t lie to my face.”

“I’m not lying, Yuuri.”

“Whatever. I’m going, Viktor. And I’m retiring. Maybe I’ll see you around some time.”

And then he was gone, and Viktor was alone yet again.


	2. "I'm here for you" ~ Vichris

“I’m here for you.”

“No. You’re really not. You never were, Chris, and that’s the thing with you. I figured this all out. You do it to every man stupid enough to get with you. You tell them you’re here, seduce them, make them feel _special_ ,” Viktor practically hissed that last word, the uncharacteristic venom in his voice - he almost sounded like Yuri at this point - taking the other man aback. “And then you go behind their back, don’t you? Prove how little they meant by fucking off with some other man!”

“Viktor, please, you’ve got this all wrong, I would never do-”

“Don’t.”

“I mea-”

“I said don’t, Chris. I’m sure you know enough English to know what the means.” Viktor spat out, a dark scowl creasing his normally smooth features. “Stop trying to apologise. I’ve made the mistake of taking you back too many times. I’m done with you.”

“I don’t know where all this is coming from, Viktor.”

“I’m not stupid. There are rumours about you all the time, and at first I didn’t want to believe them, Chris. I thought you really loved me. But there are only so many times I can hear the same rumours before I begin to wonder how much truth there is behind them. And I saw, Chris, I saw what you did. It was all over the media within minutes. I knew you and Seung Gil were good friends, but...really, Chris?” he broke off, almost as though there was more to say. “Do I really deserve this?”

“Of course you don’t. You know how destructive rumours are - and you know better than to believe them, I would’ve thought,” Chris murmured, pausing for a second. “We’re both professionals here. And we’re both constantly in the eye of the media. Of course there will be rumours.”

“It didn’t look much like ‘just a rumour’.”

“Viktor, how many other men have I been with that left me because I cheated? None. I’m not like that, and I’m surprised you would think I am, given how long we’ve known each other, mon amour. I’m a flirt, but I’m not a cheater.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“No. I don’t want him, Viktor. He’s a good friend, but he’s not you. You’re the one I truly love, mon cherie.”

“But you were- he was-”

“Viktor. You know how good the paparazzi are at getting what they want. They’ll manipulate any situation to make the photos look bad. Scandal always sells,” he pauses, “Sex does too, for that matter.” Chris wasn’t surprised when Viktor rolled his eyes after that addition, smirking slightly. “You know it’s true, babe.”

“I do, but I don’t see how it applies to this situation.”

“Because they want to make it look like I’m probably in a sexual relationship with Seung Gil, and cheating on the man I love the most. But that’s not true, Viktor. I love you, and only you. I’m always here for you.”

“I...I love you too, Chris.”


	3. “I’ll kill that son of a bitch who did this to you.” ~ Otayuri

It was quiet now, unlike the blaring sirens and flashing police lights from barely twenty minutes ago. The almost-silence was deafening; a harsh contrast to Yuri’s ears. He sat stock still, watching the bright lights of the city blur into one as the sleek black sports car cut through the night. In his lap lay his partner, sprawled across the leather seats in the back of the car. His bleeding had stopped - at least, Yuri thought it had, but you could never be too sure - and he seemed to be asleep. Yuri allowed himself to take a sharp breath as he tore his eyes away from the lights to his partner’s face.

“I’ll kill that son of a bitch who did this to you.” he murmured, knowing his words were falling on deaf ears and failing to care. “He’s dead. The second we get back, nothing in the world is stopping me from ripping him into pieces.” the Russian growled, roughly carding his long fingers through the matted jet black strands of Otabek’s hair. He let his fingers drift down the man’s neck, coming to rest on the smooth leather of his jacket. “I hate him. I hate all of them. They’ve made a catastrophic mistake. I’ll kill all of them.” he promised, his grip tightening involuntarily on the man’s shoulder.

“Plisetsky, we’re here now.” the driver called out, his crisp voice cutting into Yuri’s thoughts. The blonde simply nodded curtly, managing to drape Otabek over his shoulders securely enough to half-carry, half-drag him back to the dimly-lit base.

He struggled his way up the gravelled driveway slowly, only stopping once or twice to readjust Otabek on his back. The man showed no signs of waking up, and Yuri was almost afraid he wasn’t going to make it. But he knew Otabek. He was strong, and he’d make it.

“Yura! I see you’re back safely!” a voice called out; a strong Russian accent, the voice of his older brother.

“Yeah. Except Otabek almost bled out.” he spat, watching his brother’s expression morph from one of joy to one of anger and bitterness.

“They got him, did they?” he mused, continuing as Yuri nodded. “Well. Now they’ve physically injured one of our men, that gives us all the more reason to continue with our plan.” he paused; Yuri knew he was thinking from the look in his crystal-clear blue eyes. “Go get him patched up and then go to sleep. We have a lot of work to do, Yuratchka, and you will both play a big part in this. They won’t get away with it that easily.”

Yuri slept by Otabek’s side that night, one hand curled in his dark hair, now washed clean of blood; the other wrapped around the Kazakh’s waist. “I promise you, I’ll kill him myself, if it’s the last thing I do.” he murmured against the shell of the man’s ear, a small, slight smile curling the corners of lips upwards. “He’s a dead man walking.”


	4. “Please let me help you.” ~ Victuuri

If there’s one thing Yuuri Katsuki hates, it’s the deep sadness that fills the glimmering blue eyes of his fiance sometimes. It’s rare and fleeting; blink and you’d miss it. But Yuuri doesn’t miss it, because he knows there’s more to Viktor than the happy-go-lucky front he puts up for the world. He’s more, and he’s miserable, deep down. It’s obvious and yet so perfectly concealed you wouldn’t notice it. And Yuuri is helpless - he can’t do anything, because Viktor pretends like there’s nothing wrong day in, day out. He doesn’t talk, and Yuuri is too afraid to ask.

Today is different, though. That sadness was far from fleeting - Viktor has been out of it for two days now, all one-word answers and dazed glances. It’s agonising to watch. And still, Yuuri finds himself to afraid to ask Viktor what’s going on. He starts to wonder if it’s because he’s afraid of the answer.

“Please let me help you.” he mumbles, voice cutting through the still silence of their apartment. There is no response; only the slow ticking of the clock on the wall. He moves to place a hand over Viktor’s, and the Russian flinches; an infinitesimally small movement, and yet Yuuri feels it; it tugs at his heartstrings. He draws his hand back to his chest, watching the man from a distance instead. 

“You wouldn’t understand, Yuuri. I can’t explain it.” came the response, little more than ten minutes after Yuuri’s first words. 

“Talk to me. Make me understand, Viktor. You need someone to help you, and I want to be that someone.”

“You don’t understand what it’s like to be brought up in the centre of everyone’s attention all the time. It’s so hard, Yuuri. It’s suffocating,” he pauses, voice shaking and blue eyes shining with tears long repressed. “All I do is please people and say what people want me to say and do what people want me to do. It’s not about me as a human, it’s about me as a product. I am nothing. I’m just what people have built me to be, what people want me to be.”

Yuuri freezes, lapses into silence, words lodged in his throat but none of them sufficient to comfort the broken, hollow man before him. His words are filled with pain and sorrow; just the tone is a cry for help. He’s right - Yuuri can’t help him, because he doesn’t know what it feels like to be nothing more than a public object. Nobody tells him what to say or do; he’s always been free to do as he pleases within reason. He’s a person, and all the people who work with him and support his career respect that. He knows what’s good for his professional image, and that’s all that matters.

And so he lets the silence extend, because he doesn’t have the right words to fill it. And now, he starts to wonders if this silence will be the one that takes over his love.


End file.
